And Rolla; where is he? Rolla, hearing his name pronounced, answered in person, giving a bark of joy, bounded on the bed. Amy now seemed to be herself again, but it was thought best not to question her until she had fully recovered her strength. She was taken out in the shade of the butternuts, where we will leave her and Rolla for the present. During this time the mother lay in a semi-conscious condition. At times she showed signs of reason, but was too weak to speak. The muscles of her mouth moved, but only a groan was heard. Thus the night passed and the gray mist of morning is appearing. She opened her eyes and made a motion with her hand. In an instant Wilson was at her side. What do you want good woman? Who do you want to see? Instantly the whole household, including Amy and Rolla, surrounded the bed. The mother looked first at one, then at the other, and then cast her eyes heavenward, and dropped back on her pillow. Blind! said Wilson. Oh mother, dear mother, look at Amy! the child cried. Now the mother shows signs of returning strength and was again raised up in bed, and as before, apparently looked to see those she could hear but could not see. There was no light in her eyes. She makes an attempt to speak, but her words are unintelligible. She tries again: A—A—Amy— Here, dear mother; here I am. Kiss me, kiss me Amy. She took hold of Amy’s hand and tried to speak again. What is it mother? What do you want to say? Rol—Rol—Rolla! Before the words were finished, Rolla sprang to the bed and placed his fore-feet on her bosom. See, mother, Rolla is here; said Amy. A whine, accompanied by a mild bark escaped from the dog. The mother understood by that, that the dog was there. Then taking Rolla by the fore-paw, she, with a great effort laid it in Amy’s hand. Casting her sightless eyes toward heaven, she remained motionless for a few moments, evidently in prayer. A tremor came over her. A struggle ensued. Nearly gone, said Wilson. Her eyes open again. Now they can see and have the expression of intelligence. A silence ensues. She speaks: Amy—Rolla—and drops on her pillow dead. Rolla seemed to understand his mistress’s last wish and kissed the child that held its paw. CHAPTER VI. Cahoonshee. I will now briefly relate the history of the man that was so abruptly introduced to our readers a few pages back, and who was an interested spectator at the death scene we have described.